Crash of swords
by Lotty Queen
Summary: The Sacred Virgin must be preserved, so the Moon’s Knight is sent by his Lord to her rescue.A fantasy fairytale among dragons, demons, nymphs, woods and blades, fearless warriors.A touching, prohibited love story between a maiden and a demon.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: The Sacred Virgin must be preserved. In order to do so the Moon's Knight is sent by the Lord of the Shining Castle to her rescue.

A fantasy fairy-tale among dragons, demons, nymphs and a raged miko. Woods and blades, fearless warriors.

A touching, prohibited love story between a maiden and a demon, in an alternative Feudal Japan.

**Crash of swords**

By Carlotta

_Prelude: I send you, my son_

The walls were so cold and damp, big stones embedded in the smutty rock; even the air was so terribly grave. She picked off some moss while going through the tunnels hollowed in the heart of the sacred mountain, the Hakureizan. Panting by the endeavor in scrambling through those dirty passages, so narrow and suffocating, she breathed heavily, her legs aching in every step she took, her hands grasping every outstanding object to avoid the slippery spots. Maybe she would have been punished, after all, she had ruined the pure white cloth of her dress, which had to be always perfect, as a symbol of her status, but in the end, that wasn't a problem.

She had no memories of what had been before her life in that temple, sometimes she even thought she wasn't a human being. She had no knowledge of what happened out of those tunnels, the Library, the Secret Garden and the Chapel, all she knew was from the manuscripts she had read to become, someday, an acculturated woman. This way she had learned that normal people have families and live in villages and work hard to survive. She was glad to have read that, because she was sure she could have never imagined something so difficult to be the everyday life. On the other hand, normal people were free to do whatever they needed, they wished; they could have wanted.

She sighed. It was not as if she was sad about the life she had, on the contrary she counted herself lucky. She hadn't to suffer, to strain her energies. Her days were dedicated to study and in improving her abilities. All the other things hadn't to be her occupations, for the Nymph fed her and a centuries years old mummy was her master.

All around the mountain there was a sacred barrier, erected by the saint mummy, Hakushin Shonin-sama, who had had a very harsh life and was now confined there to make sure no youkai could reach her, the Sacred Virgin. She didn't know the reason why people called her that, she only knew she was somehow special and had to behave differently from others. She had no past, and no future, she had no memories and no hope. Yet, she thought that her lonely life, when compared to others' lives, was far happier.

She reached a luminous spot, where reflected were some golden glares. Rousing the hem of her long skirt from the dusty path she was walking on now, she sadly noticed it was a little filthy, yes, she was going to be punished for this. Disheartened, she continued walking, snatching every so often some grip when needed and trying her best not to make worse the situation. When the bright rays became almost blinding, she protected her face with her right arm, the flared sleeve falling right before her eyes, while her free hand desperately handled the algid wall, following the usual way in hope to not find unpleasant surprises.

When she could finally reopen her eyes, she was in front of an arch, an old flinty arch of granite, with two columns on each side and a large lintel, decorated with the bas-relief of an epic battle between Angels and Giants. Her preceptor had told her many times of that fight, of how it had been useless, the Angels had returned in the Heavens, serving Deities; the Giants had remained on the Earth, devouring Humans. The only ones allowed to protect Humans at that time were invincible Heroes, but they all perished when Demons arrived here because of the cohesion of our two worlds.

And so many of the Humans became monks, priests and priestess, in order to guarantee a succession to the human race. They sharpened their powers reaching high levels and so became feared by Demons and worshipped by Humans.

The girl admired the fine hand which had chiseled the representation with such realistic traits, asking to herself how it would have been to live at that time. Then she lowered her head and stepped into the dark den, respectfully. That was the Chapel, the place fitted for her prayers to be sent to the Goddess, the Spirit who guarded upon her. She had never seen her, but Hakushin Shonin-sama had told so much about her, too, that it was almost as if she knew her personally. She felt so much affection for her that, sometimes, when she was just a little girl, she called her "mother".

The maiden stopped right before the altar and fell to her knees, in complete devotion. Lifting her head, she gazed at the holy image of the Goddess, drawn as a beautiful woman with very long hair, of an incredible intense and lucid raven. She wore more and a precious kimono, all the coats of a different, enchanting fantasy. When she still didn't know who that woman was, she called her the Queen, for she truly appeared as majestic and as sweet as the little girl thought a real queen should be.

The girl took from a fold in her dress a minute rosary and had already opened her mouth to pray, when suddenly a vision sent her into oblivion. A knight, a full moon, a dark castle standing against the cold wintry sky of a gloomy night….

She sank on the altar, sweat in cascading along her face, gasping for air. Her eyes were so widely opened and so void of any sign of life to scare whoever saw her then. She took a few bottomless breaths, the strong impression that she was going to discover something extremely significant if she hadn't been too frightened to scrutinize that unfathomable revelation. But the most she tried to remember the last thing she had seen, the most the reminiscence became fuzzy, nebulous, until it all seemed just like a vague dream.

Slightly confused, she kneeled once again under the holy image and resumed to pray, her hands joint, her fingers nervously interlaced in a fervent plea to the only one who could accept it.

He abruptly jumped out of the bed. Shivering.

Before he could remember what had happened while he was asleep, the realization of having had a nightmare almost offended him. For he, Sesshoumaru, had never had a nightmare since a year after his mother had passed away, since he was only a helpless child.

He slowly brought a hand to brush aside his fringe, touching his warm forehead, now wet. He shifted his body under the sheets, feeling every muscle and finding he was wearied; as if he had ran during his sleep. He collected every move as calmly removed himself of those dewily silky sheets, wet too, with every single drop of his perspiration. When he could finally feel a fresh breeze, slipping from the half-open window, which caressed his naked form, he let a light moan of relief. After all, that was nothing so important, and today it was a very special day, today all his efforts in becoming invincible would have been prized.

Today he would have met his father, the Lord of the Shining Castle.

He smoothly roused from the warm and comforting spot which had granted him a restoring slumber and grasped a cloth, with whom enveloped his loins, before passing a clawed hand in his silver mane and brushing aside some others locks which had fallen on his shoulders. He wandered around the room for awhile, his pace elegant, his feet smoothly grazing the tatami on the floor. Then his speed became firmer and he opened widely the sliding door and stepped in his private bathroom, where the steam told him his servants had already attended to his routine bath.

He proceeded toward the large pond, now overwhelmed with hot, smoking water. Freeing his body from the last garment which covered it, he slipped in the water, letting his limbs relax completely at the pleasure of abandoning every tension, something he couldn't do usually. He let his head fall on the board of the pond, expanding his chest and inhaling deeply the scent of lavender and vanilla, incenses the traders provided to the palace directly from the countries at East and West of the lands he lived in.

Grasping the sponge near the bottles of luscious oil and essences, he soaked it in the warm liquid, before scrubbing it all over his ivory form. Then he let it float on the water's surface, observing the seducing ripples on the fluid his body caused sloshing it. He took a deep breath before completely diving into the hot water, his eyes closed in satisfaction: a bath like this, he wasn't sure he would have had the occasion to get one so early, it was better to enjoy it while possible. Because in the very moment he would have left that room, his one and only purpose should have been to procure himself immortal kudos, bright memory for eternity.

He was proceeding secure through those passages he so well knew, those walls had seen his childhood, his reckless runs from a wing to another of the palace, his innocent plays with the weapons he knew a day he should have used. They knew the pain of loss, the injured pride hidden in his soul; they knew his envy nature, his confidence in his own strength so unwavering to seem almost arrogant. And they knew his longing for power, more power, unlimited power.

As he arrived in front of the impressive ligneous door of the Major Hall, the many emotions, which threatened to explode inside him, obliged him to require his steel grip on himself. Calm and collected once again, he prepared his mind to the important meeting with his father, the man who had personally handled his elder son's training, making him a feared, skilled, forceful, and an almost almighty combatant.

Regardless of this, Sesshoumaru didn't feel thankful to him, to that sturdy, insuperable demon who was his father. Although he didn't admit it even to himself, he couldn't forget how he had behaved in the past toward his own son. He couldn't nor would he forgive.

The door opened its winds to allow his entrance into the dark, apparently unlimited space that room seemed due to an illusion. He perceived the Lord's immeasurable aura and stepped into the Hall, firmly glaring toward the source of all that extraordinary might, fierceness oozing from each one of his pores.

"I'm here, my Lord."

From the centre of that indefinite space, a flowing puissance began to take form into what seemed to be a man of rare beauty: his flooding silver hair, slightly curled, tied in a high ponytale, rustling at his shoulders; his indented black eyebrows, denoting intelligence and refinement; his molten gold eyes, two ambers set on his angelic face; his stripes and marks, symbols of his elevated rank. The rank his son had inherited.

He was so similar to his son, yet their personalities were so completely different. Nevertheless, he felt so proud of his son, so pleased to see what he had become.

If only he could accept his wife and, of course, his brother, that was the unique shadow on their happiness, he believed.

If he only could learn pity…

If he only could get to know love…

"Sesshoumaru. Come here, my son."

The older man opened his arms in a gesture of welcome, in nothing impeded by the colossal armor and the hulking chest strap. The youth could notice he had worn the most precious obi he had, the one he kept for really significant occasions, such as a meeting between generals after a victory, or the first son's birth, or – he felt disgusted at the thought – his own wedding. However that obi meant that something really special was going to happen that day, in that room.

"Why did you call me, father."

His question wasn't a request; in fact, he rarely used a questioning tone; he never let someone know he needed something from him, he wanted that guy to let him know something. If he needed an answer, he simply got one. If he needed a favor, he simply ordered it.

"You've grown up, Sesshoumaru. You've become a man. You've made me proud of you.

Now it's time for you to get your own life. To obtain this, I'm giving you a mission, a vital mission to fulfill."

The youth nodded in understanding, it was time for him to demonstrate what he was worthy of; it was time to conquest, to give glory to his name.

"I want you to find a girl, she's a very special maiden, perhaps you've heard of her before. However I'll briefly explain it to you.

She's one of the Sacred Virgins, the last one in fact. There's no time to tell you why she's so important and you don't need to know.

Just find her, wherever she is. Find her and bring her here."

The Prince peered at him, his eyes narrowed in irritation at his father for not informing him about all he wanted to know, and a hint of curiosity. A woman so particular to have the Lord of the Shining Castle wanting her by his domain, so much to send his first son and heir to her search. The last element of an extinguished class surrounded by mystery, the last one of a legendary kind, that was all he had ever heard about her and, if there was more, he had not paid attention to what he thought were just ridiculous chats.

The great and magnificent Lord caught the look of hidden curiosity and smiled fatherly.

"I can't fill all your voids, nor answer to your questions. All I know is that she can grant whatever wish, but now she's in serious danger; her purity and chastity are threatened and her life is at risk. I've decided you will be the one to save her from these menaces without a name".

So that was what it was, a maiden's rescue. Even though he still wasn't so convinced, what mattered for him was the mission: he had a responsibility now, he had an order.

And he would have respected it, he would have found that girl, wherever she was, to bring her to his Lord. To get what was his for birthright.

"She's the last Sacred Virgin we have. You must bring her here. And…

You won't be alone. The Queen will come with you. This is…her personal wish."

He was quite surprised, but regained almost instantly his impeccable self-control. It was unusual for her to take interest in these sort of things and, now that he recalled the past events, it was absolutely the first time she left her residence without her…husband. It was rather surprising, then, that she "wished" to meet this famous girl and even a little rash, in his thought. Anyhow this wasn't his concern, just a worriment during the travel.

"The Queen…I see."

And so his father was allowing that woman to leave the palace and face a risky trip, moreover alone in his elder son's company. He perfectly knew the nasty hatred he felt toward that human female; she had not only seduced his father, charming him with some sort of unknown spell, weakening him and, to completely dishonor him, bearing him a devilishly, bastard half-breed. A horrible creature, the incarnation, the living proof of his father's insanity, of his biggest mistake.

But then again, although these were, after all, his family's affairs, it wasn't his concern right now, just a worriment during the travel.

Nevertheless this didn't mean he wasn't going to avenge his father's pitiful destiny, once becoming Lord himself. He didn't mean to directly kill those insects, they were worthless of such an attention; but surely he didn't want to see them ever again.

His father was staring at him, as if trying to read his mind, which obviously he wasn't able to do, he had never been able to understand him.

After awhile, he made a sign to kneel at his feet, which his son, respectfully, complied to do. No matter how that wretched woman had cheated on him in order to be married by him, he remained the Lord, the most powerful being he knew, he hadn't been able to beat yet.

And so he bended his head. Inutaisho pulled out a new sword from a fretted scabbard the Prince had never seen before.

"You have to save her; she is the only one who can realize every desire.

Your brother won't come, since he has decided to protect his woman, a priestess, he can't leave her."

The Prince made a slight grin of disgust at the thought of his worthless half-brother, fallen in further dishonor by mating with a miko, one who should have been a virgin priestess, human no less. His family was precipitating in low disgrace, he had to purify the land sooner or later, or else his name would have been sullied, would have meant shame for the future generations.

But for now the Lord of the Shining Castle had different plans for his first son. He took up the recently made great blade and imposed it right on the edge of his son's armor, hitting the iron until it reverberated. Then he solemnly proffered the ceremonial words, vibrating a sonorous stroke on the youth's chest:

"I commit you a mission; consider it your primary duty, above all else complete it, even at the price of your life."

Sesshoumaru lifted his head and gazed straight in his father's eyes, so similar to his own, a look of profound determination and confidence.

"Find that maiden, my son. Find her and bring her here.

I nominate you Knight of the Moon. Now go."

The knight roused and moved to leave, ready to amaze the future generations, ready to take a extraordinary place in the history of his family.

He was about to exit the enormous wooden door, when the Lord belted out his name, and the youth could not know that was the last time he would get to hear his voice.

"Sesshoumaru!

…Protect Izayoi."

If it was all about that, there was no need to say those words; if something happened to her, he would have appeared as a revengeful bloodthirsty coward, who makes justice at women's expenses.

Without a word, the Prince left the room, the hint of a smirk on his godly visage.

As the Lord watched him going away, an inexplicable feeling of nostalgia took over him: his child had grown up, become a beautiful and valorous warrior, and now was going to fulfill a maybe mortal mission. He found himself coveting that he was still a little pup, playing at the war within the safe walls of the palace; beaming softly, fatherly, he gave him a silent goodbye, wishing him luck.

"Go finding your life. And, if you'll be skilled enough, you'll get the inheritance I've prepared for you, my son. My beloved son."

_End Prelude_


	2. Chapter 2

**Crash of swords**

By Carlotta

_Chapter one: a suitable sword for a worthy Cavalier_

Everything was ready now; the horses, the provisions, for that human female, of course, he could perfectly look after his own welfare, even the necessities to camp for the night. Although the long and venturous deed hadn't begun yet, the nuisances due to that woman were conspicuous almost as much as they were useless, why in the world didn't she want to remain at the castle by her Lord's side? She would have avoided so many preparations and wouldn't have relented, as she was surely going to do, the travel with her futile presence.

But, in the end, why did he care? The Lord had assigned him a mission, all he had to do was obey and surround himself of glory, by any means. If she wished to come, more than being an annoyance, she couldn't have done. She couldn't in any way be an obstacle to him, only he had to…protect her.

As if it was easy.

He hated her. That was perhaps the stronger feeling he had ever felt for a human.

But he hated himself too, exactly because of his own hatred toward her, that insect didn't deserve his hate, didn't deserve to share even the least of spaces in his mind.

He knew he should have remained indifferent, but found out he couldn't. And to say this irked him was imprecise…

Still, the paradox remained; he, the Prince, the right heir of the Lord; he, the most skilled combatant within miles; he, the descendant of one of the purest bloodline of youkai; he had to…protect a human female. The woman who had deviated his father from what a Demon Lord should be.

The wretched woman who had given birth to a creature allowed in a race of beings lower than a worthless hanyou. A half-breed, half-caste.

Someone living because of dirty blood, someone weakened by a human's feelings.

Someone without a definite place in the world and in time, destined to dye, but not to age, too. Could ever exist a malediction worse than this?

When he had been informed of the imminent birth of such a creature, he had showed an emotion at which he looked now as a hopeless act of pity, he had proposed to kill him while he was in his mother's womb. He had said it, innocently, he was still a child at that time and that seemed to him the most reasonable thing to do.

And that time his father had silenced him, a slight blush on the cheeks.

A blush of shame, in the eyes of his son, his father had denied his own principles to get the love of…

Stop it. That was enough.

He had a mission, now. He had an order.

A clawed hand tightened the knot of the obi, before securing the armor to the opposite junctions on the shoulders, grazing the carmine red ribbon at the edge of his chest strap. He felt the cold armor, the iron which can't pardon, watching thoughtful the scruff silver glare the daylight drew on its lucid façade. He was ready now.

"Jaken!"

A little monster with big brilliant yellow eyes, similar to two big spheres on his relatively small face and his even more little body, entered the shadowed room, his haggard clothes groveling to the floor as he neared flatteringly prostrated his powerful master. His green mug rendered even more murky by the darkness, quivering he approached the knight.

"Here at your orders, Master."

The Prince scoffed sarcastically at the toad's usual behavior, while he remained curved in an almost impossible bow. He had no time for him, now. He had no more time.

"Go taking that woman. We're leaving."

The toad mumbled rambling assents before rousing to leave, but he was stopped when the most melodious voice he had ever heard filled the gloomy room of serene vibrations.

"Why are you in such a hurry, Knight?"

The amazed servant remained dumb before such beauty, gaping astonished and in whole dedication to the celestial woman appeared from nowhere and now standing so closer to the entrance of the Prince's bedchamber. Her flowing _raven_ hair, so lucid and intensely dark; her eyes like two almonds; her fine visage, a mix of snow and pomegranate…Now he nearly understood the Lord , for choosing such a goddess to be his spouse, although he couldn't say it aloud, especially in his master's presence.

But _He_ didn't turn to her and simply stated:

"The trip is long. We're leaving."

She smiled amiably to her step-son, fully aware of his malevolence toward herself, still uncaring about that right now. Now she had to try to get along better with him, but there was something which came before this, too. She slightly leered at him, savoring the words on her tongue and slowly bringing them to her velvety lips.

"Don't you need a sword before the departure?"

He frowned; she was right and he knew that manifestly, but his father…

"Your father", she continued, appearing capable of reading his mind, unlike her dear husband, "has prepared a formidable weapon for you."

He vaguely sneered, unseen, behind his bushy shining cascade of silky yarns. And so she knew where he could have found the sword with whom his father had invested him.

"Ridicule".

"Go outside the castle, toward the swampy side of the pond; you'll find it there, Prince."

And with this, she left the room, as silently and as mysteriously as she had come.

The son of the Lord watched her until she was only a remote shadow, a hint of incredulousness hardly winked in his immobile look.

"…Jaken."

"Hai, Master?"

"…Prepare my personal horse."

A white thunderbolt was hurling out of the castle, a unique scope, a unique goal.

As she saw him, the Queen announced the event to the Lord, ruminative, standing in a corner of the darkened library.

"Your son is going to take what is his."

She turned toward him and took a few steps, headed for the obscures spot. Inutaisho lifted his gaze to meet her own and went to her in all his majesty. But then, suddenly, an unhidden worriment revealed itself through his divine countenance, always so peaceful, so composed, so rejoicing in his happiness with his family. A clawed hand moved to raise the beatific face of the woman, barely grazing her delicate chin.

"Are you sure you want to go? With him?"

Her eyes brightened in an expression of such a sweet beauty that the great demon found hard not to lean down and kiss her, to chain her to him, to have her not leaving him to face such a terrifying mission. But he knew he had to let her go.

She scrutinized deeply in his soul and slowly nodded, the allusion to a weak smile on her heavenly face. She radiated tranquility, quietness; the man swore she could have placated a lion with a single smile.

"Then Sesshoumaru will protect you."

She reached his cheeks and caressed them, holding his visage in her hands, her streamlined fingers tracing lovingly the line of his eyebrows, a look of infinite dulcetness in her honeyed eyes.

He closed his eyes intent in capturing that feather-like touch; how he would have missed it, how he would have missed her…

She knew what was going through his melancholy heart, but she had to keep her promise, a promise given to someone too important to be ignored, too superior to be compelled to care about fruitless things such as nostalgia.

"Don't ask me to remain…"

Her tortured voice tore his spirit apart. He opened once again his profound eyes to impress in his memory her unforgettable expression in that sad moment. Sad, but warm too.

He tried to say something, but his voice was husky, gruff as if in pain.

"You know I'll…"

"I'll miss you too", she ended for him.

Forming tears were visible, still she was firm in her intention and fought not to let them escape. But when he gently took her hand to place a soft kiss on her palm, she couldn't refrain from searching comfort on his carved chest, from searching his secure embrace.

He wrapped his free arm around her frightened frame.

"I'll be strong, my dear. I'll be strong, she murmured against him."

He patted her head.

"Keep this", he whispered in her ear imprisoning his kiss in her hand, "as a remembrance of me."

She tightened the hand on her chest and leaned once again in his reassuring presence, abandoning all the commotion.

"Izayoi?"

"Nani?"

"Aishiteiru."

He almost couldn't believe he was actually paying attention to that woman's words, still perhaps his father had prepared all this to make them…well…get along…

How foolish of him; how low to use such comedies to have his son cooperating with a worthless human. Well, not so worthless to his father…

Nonetheless, although accepting advices from her was dishonorable, worse than a defeat, he had to get that sword, no matter what.

He felt the poor beast he rode gasping for air, blown by the celerity his master coerced him to keep constant. At the umpteenth wheeze he decided it was better not to tire that good mount just before the departure, and because of an irrational lust for power no less, which was the only impulse he barely kept under control. As the flashes of light and colors around him took abruptly a definite form, he descended from the back of the magnificent white thoroughbred, freeing it from the harnesses and throwing them uncaringly on the dewy grass.

He abandoned the horse in the clearing he had came across and proceeded toward the stream, already hearing the placid pouring of the water, calm, timeless: it almost seemed its destiny was to watch passively as anonyms concentric circles formed and then vanished on its surface, for eternity.

"Nothing lasts forever in this world, nothing is immortal. Humans are emblem of lapsing". As he reflected about this, he realized a little better why humans live in this world. Yet it all seemed deeply illogic to him: humans born, lived cruelly and stupidly; then humans died, as silently as they had come, without possibility to avoid it. In the end, they were just miserable.

It would have been better if they didn't exist at all.

As he neared the indicated place, a strange feeling made its way in his firm spirit, a voice began to insinuate in his mind, whispering things he didn't hear, but which sounded like…promises…

Odd.

And then, he perceived it, as shivers pressed to be liberated through his body: a demonic aura. But it wasn't a common one, he had never felt such virulent and at the same time…seducing, it was the only way he was able to describe it, force before. It wasn't assimilable to the Lord's aura, for this unknown one had of course a localizable centre, but no real i _heart_ /i , no i _mind_ /i : it had no identity, it appeared to be i _pure power_ /i , without some sort of individuality. In other words, it was no one's property, for it was emanated from no living being.

And, he licked his lower lip at the thought, if things were this way, whoever could claim it as his own. Needless to say, this was his intention.

And it was so strong the influence that energy made upon him, that he totally forgot about the very reason he had come there for: the sword.

But, as he stepped closer, the situation revealed itself to be not as easy as expected. The strong aura was almost palpable in the morning air and, as he went toward the source of the one which seemed to be unlimited power, he felt the voice in his head grow more insistent, until the ones which initially were promises, became slowly almost menaces, insults toward him for his excessive prudence, for his hesitancy in claiming what he desired so badly. He narrowed his eyes, a low growl escaped from his locked lips.

He didn't like to be teased. And he didn't like to be commanded, especially by something without even a conscience of itself.

But what he laid eyes upon next instantly silenced him, letting him no way to retort. In that very moment he felt such a shame…it was from unmemorable time that he didn't feel that way: ashamed. And… "Weak".

Right there, just a few steps away from him, there was, jabbed into a sort of smutty trench, a certain new sword, hard-designed and simple, almost modest, so essential in the line to scare. At a more attentive look it resulted to be not an iron blade, but some sort of fang instead. The fang: that was the source of that incredible amount of demonic power.

"Oni", he understood, considering the rawness of that force. "Such brutality…I'll submit it".

He stepped firmly toward the sword, apparently as peaceful as it would be an old man walking in the garden; but inside, he was fighting turmoil with much effort. This time, too, as many before, his confidence in his own spiritic power allowed him to reach the spot at the centre of the trench. His pure white clothes were dirtied by that fetid mud, his refined tabi(1) soiled. Yet, at the moment, he didn't care at all, his thoughts were all concentrated in dominating the pulsing energy, the dripping, exuding strength, the spilling demonic aura.

He sank into the sludge to the knees, the hilt now standing right in front of him. With an extreme endeavor he roused a clawed hand, ready to grasp the object of his wants, ready to claim for himself what his father had appropriately prepared for his first son. He only then noticed the terrible fetor that wet earth emanated and, more important, the red-purple cloud, which enfolded not only himself, but all the surrounding area, too. If his senses didn't fail him, the dense aura that sword outpoured, like an inexhaustible fountain, extended until the limit of the forest.

He was every second more surprised that he hadn't detected it before.

As his fingers grasped the cold iron of the hilt, he felt a sensation he could have portrayed as the sturdiest he had ever felt, for several moments he himself felt bewildered, before regaining consciousness and a grip on himself. But this, too, didn't last much time, as an inconceivable, absurdly enormous current, of that same pure power he had perceived while being in proximity of the sword, engulfed his entire being, flowing inside him like incessant, colossal waterfalls, sending him in a dimension which overcame the bliss, the overabundance…it was the closest thing to omnipotence existing in this world.

His pupils dilated and his breath was by now more similar to a hoarse pant, as he let that appalling experience push him on the confine between self-destruction and almightiness. He didn't distinguish his own arm anymore, it had become one thing with the sword, or maybe the sword had become part of his body: he felt to i _belong_ /i to the weapon, in a way, as well as the weapon belonged to him. It was the weirdest of bonds, its force had become his force, and his force had found a mean to be free, to express itself in the sword, the artificial connection between the spiritic power and his visible manifestation.

Still breathing heavily, he let his lids fall on his gaze, now normally aware of the surroundings, abandoning himself to the pleasure of feeling the removed, vivid energy flowing inside him. No, it was not vivid, it was i _alive_ /i … because now his own life was the sword's, and the sword's force was his own…

He let out a blow, enjoying the moment…

"Sesshoumaru-sama!", a sudden, masculine voice shouted in that glorious flash; and its tone was rather threatening, too.

The Prince's eyes slid open, with grace but a hint of astonishment, too. Damn, for the second time that day, he _had not noticed_! He had not noticed something so evident and essential, vital, too! What was happening to his perceptions, his finely sharpened perceptions?

They were humans, judging from the peculiar smell of perspiration and the hidden fear.

Those…those insolent insects would have paid for this…

Now he had to calculate how many there were, but of course he couldn't use the olfaction; the commotion due to the imposing aura born from the union with the sword made impractical whatever attempt in catching their scent. And the cloud of energy made his vision fuzzy. He focused his attention on his sensitive hearing, his elfic ears tensed to the minimum rustle. Here they were.

Whispers of the stream's breeze while gracing iron, a lot of it; behind him, the hard infantry, halberds, sickles, axes. Creaks of armors; in front of him; the cavalry, descended from the horses. Rustles like cane fields; at both sides: the light infantry, spears, lances.

It appeared to be a complete, miniaturized army.

"And so you took the sword. We need nothing more. Soldiers! KILL HIM!"

The demon's eyes widened in rage, fury; how dare they…? They were going to face his wrath. Those…those… i _humans_ /i and this was all that needed to be said, reputed themselves able to…even threaten him…? He didn't know if they were too confident, too positive, or too impudent. Or maybe ingenuous, or in despair…

Balderdash!

They were just foolish, as the ones of their kind.

But…he wanted to test his sword, didn't he?

"Hmpf", he muttered, "It's wasted".

Her raven long, flyaway locks fluttered like a crow's flock, undistinguishable from her horse's dark mane, as she recklessly rode her black steed through that tricky grove of spiny bushes. It was the most difficult way to reach her target, but it was the shorter, too. Courageously pushing through the arid fronds, ignoring the scratches on her, she never let a sigh, a mourn, looking straight in front of her, without rethinking, only in deep anguish about what was going to happen and wasn't avoidable if she didn't arrive in time.

"Please let me be in time!", she pleaded tightening the reins so much that her delicate fingers ached and her knuckles turned white.

The regular rhythm of the paws and the slogs on her back were the only audible sounds.

"Ready? ATTACK!"

A rain of arrows precipitated from nowhere, or better from everywhere; right, the archers! He had not thought about those. "Possible that this amount of power has this effect on me". He realized he had to dominate the aura soon, or even those mortals could have given him problems, in his actual state of semi-trance. But, as long as those were arrows, there was no risk: they couldn't have reached him even if they were tripled: the barrier around him was, for the moment, impenetrable.

And they seemed to understand that, when they saw he was unharmed, for they stopped every operation and waited.

He took advantage from this and expelled from his body such an amount of force that he could have made the entire forest explode; but as he thought he was finally free from that pseudo-slumber, blessed by wonderful sensation of might, he saw a blinding radiance up to devour him. Just in time, the comprehension that was his own, immeasurable power, which had been contained by the barrier, made him react resolved. He extracted the sword from the smutty earth and impugned it vigorously; as he sliced the air, saturated of that uncontainable energy, he felt that amount of spiritic power spout in any direction, as the mud sketched into the sky. He gave off more and more power, feeling to have become an unlimited source of that same energy which had dared to try to submit him to its mindless scopes. The incomparable force was continually expelled from a bottomless well, as the Prince realized he was no longer a vase fitted for imprisoning his own power, but a font of that power instead.

He grinned, his eyes flamed. Whoever saw him in that exact moment wouldn't have probably identified him.

The red-purple cloud dissipated, absorbed by its true origin; the vision enlightened and the sky was so clear and sunny that it seemed spring had come with more than a month of advance. The only thing that betrayed that heavenly scenery was the air: freezing; and bitter. It remembered that was just a wintry morning.

But what he saw next left him speechless: those were _his father's_ soldiers. His father's _better_ soldiers.

There were only two possibilities; the first: they had gone crazy, hoping to defeat him, exactly knowing it would have been hopeless; the second: the Lord had sent them there to prove him. Which would have been hopeless as well: they were humans, by any means, what did his father think, that he would have been troubled by them? Or –his eyes slightly widened in realization- he wanted him to…spare them…

"Absurd. We're fighting".

However the answer came after a while, as the soldiers comprehended they could combat, now.

"You weren't thinking that sword is a gift, were you?", the same voice as before continued. "Your father, our Lord, wants to be…sure you deserve it.." his almost playful tone irritated the demon and, although his mask remained impassive, his blood boiled.

"You must defeat us, my Prince!"

As the shout filled the air, instantly, as if it had been activated a chain reaction, he found himself attacked from every single spot around him. Arrows assaulted him, lances stuck mere inches from where he was; the horses thrilled, more similar to bulls, scarcely tamable by their cavaliers; the foots sharpened their weapons, impatient to give in. Youths didn't give him peace, throwing at him a storm of javelins; the first line of archers aimed straight at him, while the second and third line obscured the sunlight with an unceasing rain of shots.

He knew he could have got rid of them in the blink of an eye, but he had by long understood he had to use the sword. _Only_ the sword.

Locking his grip on the hulking hilt, he raised an eyebrow, cracking his clawed fingers. Ready to attack.

Still he reflected on the reason why his father had organized such a thing; to test his son was the most reasonable answer. Yes, it had to be some sort of…attitude test.

"Kill him!", the one who appeared to be the boss yelled again.

Whatever it was, it was enough. How dare they…?...!

"I'll close your mouths".

If someone could have read his mind, would have remained more than terrified by his cold determination: he had overcome the phase of rage, he had gone beyond fury. He didn't desire blood either.

Now he wanted to fight.

He collected quite an amount of strength, surely sufficient to kill them all. This buffoonery was arriving at its end.

He roused the blade, the beginning of what seemed blue thunders forming on its line and wrapping the fang and the hilt…

She had arrived, finally; she should have felt lighter, yet an unpleasant bitterness in her throat, now parched, did nothing but increase her anguish. What if she hadn't been in time, what if it was too late?

"No!", she screamed in her mind, "I can't believe…I can't believe he does not know mercy!"

She flattened even more on the pawing horse's back, insisting in enhancing the already amazing velocity. Here she was, just a few more yards…

"Oh, no!"

…Her step-son…about to attack his own father's soldiers!

"Don't kill them, SESSHOUMARU!"

Crack. Something in the back of his mind reacted. It was, it was…

"No, impossible".

"Did you hear me? Spare their lives!"

"It's her".

How had she dared to call him with his first name? And, how had she got here…?

In any case, this didn't matter now: the soldiers were battling, even if from a distance.

And he had to…protect her.

"Stay back, woman! You have no use for this!"

But it seemed she had not only no intention of withdrawing, but she knew quite well what was happening there, too.

"You don't have to kill them, Sesshoumaru!"

Again. She was really stubborn.

"Mind your own business."

Instead, she resumed to yell, more in anguish than ever, the reins tightened in her gentle hands, her fingers interlaced in a feverish tremor.

"I warn you, Sesshoumaru! You don't have to kill them! Be careful!"

His control was fading once again: but how the hell dare she? "I warn you!", "Be careful!". How, how…

"Impudent woman".

"This is the only rule", she continued, by now really terrified by what could have been his reaction. "If you kill them you won't have the mission anymore!"

He remained silent. Ready to attack. Yet temporizing.

"It's your father who has decided it" she persisted, in an almost pleading voice. "Believe me, beat them and claim that sword as yours. But, please, listen to me, you must not slay them!"

If things were this way…well, he had to waste more time than envisaged. She was almost crying.

As the soldiers darted to assail, he only grasped the sword with both hands, just to thrust it once again in the terrain. And then, something prodigious took place.

Izayoi let out a yell, so shrill that she herself could not hear it.

Her horse jumped, making her hurl to the dirty ground, before running at a breakneck speed into the forest.

All the brave birds, that had remained until then, flew away in an instant, coloring the sky of multiple shadings.

A second later, the Queen saw a sun so gigantic that she thought she was going to be eaten by that incalculably vast sphere of…light, power…

She fainted.

"Are you fine, my Queen?"

She slowly opened her almond eyes to the world around her: the sky was clear, the sun was high; it had to be almost midday, judging from the warmth which surrounded her. That voice…

"Prince…"

She turned to him, just to find herself on his knees. "He occurred to me?"

"What happened?" she demanded. "I can't remember, I'm so confused…"

"Nothing of your worriment."

She relaxed, letting her head rest on his arm and leaving ajar her eyes, inexplicably tired.

"I'm exhausted" she whispered in a breath.

"We're returning to the castle to take what we need. Then we will leave."

She let out a moan to accomplish; her raven hairs fell disorderly on her shoulders. That was the oddest of situations and she wasn't able to find an explanation for his strange behavior; even so, she was so jaded she could not even think.

She perceived her body, laying on him; she felt her hands, one resting on her womb, another fallen to the ground. It was as if her weight was multiplied a hundredfold; she was not even able to ask her limb not to oppress her. She just wished to sleep.

But then, slowly, she distinguished something like a spine on her ankle.

"Right, my ankle…I was hurled from the horse's back…"

"Where are the horses?"

"Back to the castle."

She felt reassured.

"You brought them there?"

"…They know the way home."

She slightly, almost imperceptibly nodded, knowing he would have seen anyway.

"Prince…"

He glanced at her.

"I think I twisted my ankle."

He scrutinized the cloudless layers of the sky. After all, he felt something near gratitude for her, for what she had done. Now the Toukijin rested in its proper folder, which she had brought him; it was tied to his waist with a silky strip of her dress, which she had provided it.

"Just sleep."

But she had noted something which shocked her deeply: after all her effort…

"What horror…In the end, you've killed them."

She was so fatigued that her voice was merely audible, still he caught her tone, horrified and deluded, and a little accusing too.

Corpses laid all over the border of the trench, weapons were cast helter-skelter on the muddy field. It was atrocious, she felt vomiting.

Yet, not a singe drop of blood was visible, it appeared as if they had been murdered by an assassin wind, by a tempest.

"They're fainted" he assured her. "Now sleep."

Searching confirmation in his beautiful eyes, she beheld the flare of truth. She smiled weakly; "I see", she said to herself, not aware if she was talking or thinking, just before losing conscience again.

He roused her and brought her back to the palace.

The stalls were one of the places he hated the most in the castle: the fetor of excreta drove him insane. Those rooms seemed always decrepit, the beams were constantly rotten, the doors grated and there was such a strong smell of mildew to resemble some sort of corpse in decomposition.

After he had arrived to the castle with the woman, she had been cured by an old enchantress who lived in a dependence of the citadel and had reacquainted her health and vital strength in a short time. They had not had lunch and she was now in the stall, too, surely preparing her black horse for the first day of march.

He found his servant in his private stall, attending to the same candid horse he had ridden some hours ago.

"Is it ready?" he demanded.

"Almost, Master!", the toad answered joyfully. "We'll be ready to leave within half an hour."

He peered at his little servant.

"You are not coming with me."

"Of course, Master…W…Wait! What have you just said?"

He was about to leave the putrid place. But the little toad couldn't believe to what he had just heard from him.

"B-But Master! Why can't I come too?"

The Knight came back and took the reins of that fabulous animal, then proceeded toward the smashed door.

"I have enough burdens." the handsome demon responded, making sure i _she_ /i could hear him from the contiguous stall.

The little toad lowered his disproportioned head, disconsolate, disheartened. His idol, his reason to live, his god was leaving him…without sharing with his loyal, faithful, devoted servant his future kudos! What an unfair, cruel thing to do; how unkind, brutal, spiteful, vicious, evil, insensible, pitiless, ruthless, unfeeling, heartless, insensitive, merciless, hardhearted, wicked, nasty…

But when he lastly finished to give vent to his resentment, they were already far away.

_End Chapter_

NOTE:

(1)TABI Sesshoumaru's boots, even though they're "particular" tabi


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: a meticulousness: the dialogues are contained in "…", the thoughts in "…". u Please pay attention to it/u

I have to precise something about the story, too: going on, you will read about a lot of things which u doesn't belong to the real Feudal Japan – and, in fact, you already have in the previous chapters – This is the reason why I've written in the summary "Alternative Feudal Japan".

**Crash of swords**

By Carlotta

_Chapter two: I will fight_

The sparkling fronds were like an emerald, like a mosaic, an ancient mosaic resembling the one she had once seen on a scroll, when she was little. Her father had told her that was an art that people who had lived in Europe, an insofar land where the sun drowns in the sea, cared a lot about. She liked it very much: the picture refigured a wood and a white column –marble, as they said- and a woman, seminude, with a wine tissue around her inner treasures, which barely covered her nature; she was laying on the grass with a goblet replete of a blood-like liquid.

Like the vivid colors of that mosaic, like the myriads of dowels which composed it, that wood was a giant portrait, immobile, yet pulsing of invisible life. She realized the only disturbers of that peace were they two, with their pawing mounts, two wonderful horses, cool and overflowing energies.

"The horse doesn't betray, my beloved Izayoi", she remembered her dear husband having said to her a day, while walking through the campaigns; "when it's tired, it shows to you its exhaustion little by little, so that you can try to solve the problem before it's too late. There are other animals you've never seen, my dear, which faint when you think they're still rested". He had caressed affectionately her cheek and smiled at her amazed look; sometimes, being with him, she felt to be still a baby, to have never grown up. He was so distant from her humble comprehension of the world, he had seen so many things…She giggled inaudibly, her thin lips just curved that little which needed for them to be called smiling.

She enjoyed the view of that profound green, innocently playing to observe where the leaves gave up to the sky's blue shadings. How perfect.

As the sunrays became less and less lucent, she began to wonder if and where they were going to camp for the night. When obscurity grew deep and unplumbed, even her discreet conduct faded, as the sleep warmed up her bones, asking for a bed of any sort, even a moss or a straw heap. Tactfully, she proposed the idea…

"Knight…knight!", she sweetly called him. Then she remained silent until he stopped the march and slightly turned his head toward her; just a hint, what was sufficient to allow her to see a raised eyebrow.

"Do you think we can camp for the night now? It's late, we can proceed tomorrow…"

…

"Are you weary?"

She nodded. He had been mute during all the travel that day, while she abandoned herself to far, pleasant memories…

His voice had reached her almost like a gift. But she had the impression he longed to have her i _asking_ /i him to take some rest. "As if he wants to emphasize my weakness, my uselessness; as if he wants me to take conscience of how a load I am…"

"Fine, then. That oak over there will work."

"Maybe I was wrong." Sesshoumaru was one of those people she wasn't fully able to understand, and when she thought she was at a good point discovering their personality, everything joined forces to prove her wrong. Just like him: when she had demonstrated him her well-disposition toward him, recklessly running to bring him Toukijin's scabbard, having him carrying her back to the castle in a gesture of primitive gratitude…She had thought they had found a way to get along better…

"Well, I know it wasn't going to be so easy", she remembered, an inexplicable feeling of guilt showing in her chest: maybe it was her fault, maybe it was her who hadn't helped him after his mother's passing…

"Lay here. Don't search for water, or for food. Don't get away. Don't leave this safe place, for whatever reason."

Her eyes widened. "Orders…?"

"Good night Queen".

"Good night…", she whispered in a breath. "W-wait, where are you going?"

He wheeled, as if flying instead of grazing the soil, and almost glowered at her.

"I'll be nearby", he added after a while, leaving her alone once again.

She took a blanket from her horse's back, now indistinguishable in the black night, and arranged her jaded frame in a large socket of the big tree. It had to be an old plant, judging from its massive, nodose stalk, and from its chunky branches. As she laid on a carpet of dried foliage, the fronds lowered to cover the hideaway, to grant her a restoring slumber. She noticed it and softly patted the bark, graven by the centuries.

"Arigatou, Ancient Oak. What can I do to thank you?"

Submitted, a baritone voice responded.

"Relax now. Tomorrow you will tell me your story".

"Oh, but I can do it even now, if you like!", she said, eyes sparkling in joyfulness.

"No, not now".

"Why not?", she found herself demanding, unable to stop the impulse, the curiosity.

"…Because now you need to rest".

Alone. Finally.

Around him nude rocks, swallows, waterfalls, peaks, craters.

The sensation of being only with his own individual, the perception of the void all around him. Being in harmony with the nature, being the only breathing creature in a vast radius.

These were the things that pacified him with his own, struggling soul. The fact of being always tensed, always composed, always collected, had almost made him believe that was his natural condition. "Perhaps", he thought sarcastically, "I don't know how to come back…"

He didn't feel hypocritical, dissembler, or false; he didn't feel uncomfortable or awkward, either. Actually, the extraordinary fact was that he felt completely at ease, simply letting everything which didn't involve him merely slide away.

In one word: apathy. That same apathy which caused his victory in battle, which gave him his incredible grasp on himself. That same apathy which, he knew, frightened his father so badly.

But this wasn't the only reason he had taken some alone time to spend away from that woman, away from the world. The truth was a more uncertain, troubling realty: from now on, he had to fight.

It wasn't a training or a duel anymore, now he realized he was going to combat every day to guarantee the woman's and his safety. He wasn't scared, he never was –didn't he value his life?- but annoyed…well, he undeniably was upset. He would have met the lowest creatures, and they would have dared to come in his way, to threaten him…Ridicule. Was the glory worth of all this waste of time and energies?

Yes, it was.

He had to be determined, strong, still, firm. No doubt, no rethinking. No fear, no sorrow.

He licked his lips. "Just watch me, father…"

He descended from the big stone he was abutted to and stepped toward the lower course of a river, full of all the innumerable cascade's waters. Slowly undressing himself, he decided he could at least concede to his forceful body a bath. The freezing flow enveloped his form as his hairs became a single surge with the gushes. Shining in the moonlight, he disappeared in the deluge, while the clouds ate the only sun which, after every setting, enlightens the darkness of the night, above the precise spot in which the river's nymph had had the fortune to graze his ivory form.

"!"

What was this, all of a sudden?

…"Youki!".

It was barely perceptible, but there was unquestionably a demonic aura approaching. He couldn't sense it very well, it had to belong to someone really insignificant, judging from its frail presence. However…that thing was going straight to the place the woman was resting. Those shameful low youkai, more similar to beasts…when they perceived an easy prey they immediately made their way toward it.

"Here it begins".

Without delay, he headed to the wood, Toukijin's hilt firmly grasped. She was resting peacefully, this was sure: he could sense no fear, no reaction. Following the trace of her scent, so comparable to blooming lotus, he made his way through the intricate vegetation, as a thick fog wrapped him, making him unable to see beyond the nearest tree. No longer aware of the obstacles, he began to slate furiously whatever happened to be in front of him, shearing countless branches as he began to increase his speed. There was definitely something wrong there.

First, the fog: his view had always been formidable; impossible that a meager fog could have that effect.

Second, her scent: it was growing more intoxicating, abnormally; if he neared more, his olfaction would have been weakened too.

Third, the aura he had sensed before: it had vanished.

He proceeded, surprised to have not arrived yet: he was sure to have covered less distance going away, but…the path seemed endless.

Wait a moment: the path? So…he was no longer in the wood…!

He abruptly turned around to find himself in a desolate land, not a single tree visible. The fog quickly dissipated, as he caught a particular which almost scared him: a piece of the woman's kimono was thrown on the ground, before his very eyes. As he delineated the outline of the stars on the overseas blue of the fabric, a false, liar memory began to take form in his mind…

…There she was, preparing herself for the night, but…wait, she wasn't alone…he was…

"Right", he confirmed, "I was behind a tree while she…took a cloth, she…"

Everything began to spin as he lost conscience of the realty around him; colors, reverberations, faces without a name filing, or rather tearing in an unclear, remote space…His vision blurred, then became dark. And that low, continue hum…It seemed the voice interweaved in the texture of the world; it suited everything so well, to be almost inaudible, but there it was, restless…

He felt like drunk, sounds from nowhere echoed in his mind; he was living a noisy thought, he was on the edge of a…jubilation of harlequin feathers…No, now he was…swimming in a pool…yes, a stream, and at the horizon…the palace, his residence…

This reminiscence belonged to his far childhood, despite the fact that…he had by long forgotten…

…Sure, there she was…his mother…

"You're beautiful", he murmured to the illusion of her figure, as a divine woman with long curled hair, of the same color the wheat steals from the sun when it comes June, mixed to red fire, grinned at him.

She handled him something…a long, lucent object…it appeared to be…no, no mistake about that: it was a blade. She was offering him the weapon, beaming in contentment; "You see, mother…", he couldn't stop but think, "I've grown in a Cavalier". She beamed amiably at him, she had to be very blissful…and somehow he felt lighter. He made a little move, as if to clasp what she was proffering…

Wait, this scent...No, he had to be wrong, there was no scent around him, only a mute vision, only a dazzling light…

Yet that impression, that perfume…like lotus…

But a sign from the shining woman before him was enough to erase any question from his mind. Right then, he didn't remember anything, he wanted nothing, just to reach out and…

He felt as if he was in the depth of the ocean. Oh, it was clearly a fantasy, but the astonishment, the hard-breathing…he could almost sense the bubbles escaping his lips, but he didn't feel heavy at all, on the contrary it was all so…free, so ethereal…

The woman grinned again, widely, so widely that her fangs appeared under the cherry lips. Red…there was…something else of that color, he…

He narrowed his eyes, longing to see, just to distinguish a crimson shading on the blade's surface…Red, on a blade: blood? What else could that be?

The woman nodded, as if able to read his thoughts before he himself could finish them. So that blade was…dirtied with blood…

Everything became darker, as a bundle of brightness cleared a spot; there laid a cascade of raven silk…

The woman nodded again and again pushed the blade toward him. He roused a hand, he was about to take it…But, what was this unpleasant sensation?

And then, a voice began to insinuate in his mind, shrilling little by little.

"Can't you see, Sesshoumaru? Can't you see what must be done? Watch there…look at that spot…Can't you recognize her? Can't you recognize the cause of our sufferings?"

The knight listened carefully, but didn't understand the meaning of those words…it was like a telepathic communication, the woman in front of him did nothing but smile, yet he somehow _knew_ it was her who was talking…his mother…

He obeyed and beheld the luminous spot, just to realize that…the raven cascade was breathing…Was that…alive?

"Are you so slow, my son? Can't you see our perniciousness, our partridge? Look at her, Sesshoumaru! Can't you see her? Can't you see the wretched woman who caused me so much pain?"

The voice had become vulgar and harsh, but he didn't seem to notice it; because now he clearly saw…that everything was right there.

Izayoi, the woman his father loved so much. Izayoi, the woman his father had married, against the family's consent. Izayoi, a hanyou's mother…

There she was, lying, a brilliant red rivulet flowing approximately from her abdomen. Now that he could look closely, she was breathing quite heavily: unambiguously his mother had injured her, and she was now unconscious.

He lifted his gaze to meet the woman's crimson one. He understood what he had to do, he understood what she was asking him. She continued in a more seducing tone.

"Exactly, my son: kill her. Kill her and everything will be right. It's right for us to hate her, it's right to take her useless life: she has made my husband fall in low disgrace, in ruin. She has dishonored his once so glorious name. Now there's the solution, right in front of you, my son. I've prepared this for you, I've prepared this revenge for you…"

Yes, she was the cause, she was…

Revenge? Upon a human female's expenses? Did his mother think he was that low, that coward? This wasn't…this couldn't be…

"What are you doing? What are you waiting for? Show pity to your wretched mother! Take my avenge, my son! Make her taste my wrath through the line of your blade!"

Had he heard correctly? His mother…wretched?

"Mother…have you no dignity left…to want this Sesshoumaru to take your avenge at such a price? At the price of my honor?"

He blinked one, two, three times. And each time that figure became less and less attractive, desirable…As he slowly regained consciousness, her eyes broadened immoderately, whilst her fangs lengthened like sickles and her curls changed into hissing viscid snakes. Her voice sounded like thunders and around her fired arrows flung in a mortal spiral.

Not completely awaken yet, he remained unmoving, deeply disconcerted, staring at the fainted Queen the vision was showing him, as the monster resumed to shout, this time with its throat spreading disgusting gasses and her tongue spilling venomous splashes, which melted the rocks under her, while her horrible puss gnarled in a perfidy grimace.

"What are you waiting? Can't you feel the pleasurable smell of her blood? Taste it! SLAY HER NOW!"

Fatal error.

"Smell?" What smell? There was, there was…"THERE'S NO SMELL!", his intellect roared so sharply that he believed he was going to be stunned.

His eyes flashed red in sudden realization whilst he felt his body collapse to the ground, as if he had been on a cloud all this time, while his mind made a quick sum: he had noted it before, that vision had no scent; that could not be Izayoi, for she was in the trunk; and more…his mother had never met the Queen, for she had died long before. So…

He spurted forward and snatched what he still saw as a beautiful woman, tightening so hard that his claws dived in the milky skin; but no blood poured out. Fired arrows scratched him, but he couldn't even see them.

"Who are you?", he growled to her, shaking her like a cane in the tempest. "ANSWER!"

In a moment, the vision faded away, shattering into burning glass' pieces: Izayoi, the blade, the pool, the darkness. He didn't pay attention to those, he wanted only a thing. Letting his rage and ferocity spread out without limit, he darted to attack that monstrous creature, now revealed to his eyes in its full horror. He submerged that nature's abortion of hits, but that living thing didn't even pretend to defend itself. Once he had given vent to his anger, the horrific demon reappeared right before him, undamaged.

Uncontrolled, he assaulted it over and over again, without feeling fear, fatigue, sorrow. He broke the arrows, ran rampant and stroke savagely, scattered the serpents, but the more he cut them, the more they multiplied. Annoyed of the fight, he allowed a sufficient amount of poison to dispense in his veins and collected every single drop of it in one attack. He pierced the monster right in the abdomen, releasing all the toxic substance in a quantity sufficient to melt the entire wood around them. As he pulled back his clawed hand, still winded by a green cloud, just when he was sure he had gotten rid of that ogre, again it materialized before his very eyes.

Once more he unbridled his ire, but comprehended it was useless: to hit that thing…it was like hitting smoke: he finally noticed that it had no aura.

And so his mind made quickly two plus two. "You are an illusion, aren't you?"

"Do you think you're making fun of me!"

He avoided attacking and gathered the Toukijin – who knows when, it had slid on the terrain – then, patiently, stayed still. In the very instant the creature showed up, he sliced it in half with an energy akin to a blue thunder, a single thought readable in his eyes: "You've made me waste enough time".

Without even detect if his stroke had worked, the sword already in its proper folder, he whirled and wended in the direction of the wood, silently hoping to be in time. Now it was patently manifest that this had all been a made-up to keep him far away. Away from her.

He found the passage he had hollowed in the undergrowth while he was – it was hard to admit – under that spell, and hasty scuttled where he had left her just some hours before.

As the ancient oak came into sight, he immediately noticed something was different from before: the niche had been covered by boughs and foliage and was so well camouflaged to be hardly distinguishable.

Once again, he grasped the wrought hilt of his powerful sword.

She was breathing serenely, entrapped in the realm of dreams, her countenance peacefully distended, her frame placidly soothed. The sheets' rustles lulled her, as a busy squirrel crunched some chestnuts, beating the time out the time itself. Yes, out of time…because where she was going now nobody could reach her, because she was suspended between the worlds, and her life's memories were passing like in a speedy sequence in front of her.

"Right", she mumbled in her sleep, "this is what has been my life…before _him_ …"

She moaned as the image of a butterfly took form…"That's right…I loved to run freely, barefoot, to climb the cliffs…"

She slightly saddened as the reminiscence of when her parents obliged her to wear a pair of sandals…and when they imprisoned her waist in an obi and coerced her feet into rude geta(1)…They said she was a young woman, she had to be mannered…

She had never deluded them, nor upset them: she was the perfect daughter. Until…

Well, love claimed her heart, and she didn't answer no. So now her relatives hated her with a passion for "mating" with a demon.

"More or less the same reason why Sesshoumaru hates his father: "mating" with a human…"

She turned on her left side and snuggled, maybe a reaction to the chilly air which the kind oak could not stop either. Her locks fell smoothly on her cheeks, as she sighed slowly awakening, because of a disturbing leaf which was tickling her nose. When she was almost conscious, a finger moved to eliminate the bother; she delicately pushed aside some leaves and brushed her fringe away from her now faintly open eyes. She gropingly tasted the ground, searching her blanket; she had surely tossed it away while slumbering…

Suddenly, silent. The squirrel appeased, the leaves jolted, the branches trembled…A single chestnut fell before her very eyes: the squirrel had fled…

The bark began to crackle as the leaves began to run, desperately, like maiden when bandits are up to kidnap them.

No, wait…the earth was doddering...!

She shuddered, whilst her eyes expanded, her pupils fused…An earthquake!

God, she was terrified by cataclysm, by Nature's forces!

The Prince, she had to call him, he had to be near! He had to!

She roused to abscond, but only butted against the solid barks. When a second, more virulent shake distracted the earth, she helplessly fell to the foliage mat once again. A dust spread in the static air, and she coughed, scared.

"Ancient Oak, Ancient Oak!...Please let me go outside!"

Only other vibrations from the Earth's centre echoed her; maybe that tree was sleeping…

"But…I'm here! I'm alone! Oh, where's he, where's he?"

She collected her strength and released it in a fraught cry.

"Sesshoumaru, Sesshoumaru!"

Sand began to escape from the wood's slits as the petrified woman remained still, yelling for help every so often…

There she was, safe in the oak's trunk. There was no doubt about that, the demonic aura wasn't threatening her right now. There was no need to excise that old plant just because of an ill-founded suspicion, besides…she was probably resting by now: if he woke her up, she would have been tired during the travel the next day, and would have be a major nuisance.

He slowed down his run and stopped some feet away from her hidden pallet, the Toukijin secure at his side.

But just when he was about to sit down, something caught his attention: a weird glimpse in a shrubby place a mere yard from where he was. He wasn't sure, but judging from the brilliantness and the type of light, it could quite well be…"A knife". And…a knife has no feet; and…a knife doesn't walk in the wood at night.

He slipped in that direction, leaving again the poor woman in her accidental prison, deaf to her yells. He could not know, but someone had corked his ears and he was actually incapable of hearing her pleading voice. As he guardedly reached the suspicious position, his guesses revealed to be realty. What he saw didn't even confuse him, yet an odd feeling of emptiness pervaded him as he surveyed the gloomy, sinister, mantled silhouette of a hooded being. That thing was definitely the source of the aura he had sensed before. Feeble and vanishing that was, but there it was.

He had originally had some hesitations about the energy's font, before: after all, it could have been a powerful youkai too, so strong to disguise its own aura; it could have been a human, too – a very bastard human though…

However this wasn't time to make conjectures, he had found out what he was curious about. For the rest, that thing, whatever it was, wasn't showing any aversion towards him, so he could abandon it there and come back to his affairs. He moved some steps back to the tree…

"Where do you think you are going…?"

He didn't pay attention to it and only continued to walk.

"I'm talking with you, combatant".

He instantly whirled to face the now revealed spirit under the cloak. It wasn't just his robe to be black…in fact, that creature was essentially of the same color of sepia's ink. And what he saw next made him surprised that it could talk. In fact it had no real face, no features: it was like an amount of oil and peat, like a wave, like wax. No mouth, no eyes – or better two voids like cloak caves where normal people have eyes…

And that thing, whatever it was, appeared to begin to take interest in him. What an annoyance: even if the night was wasted because of that human' need to rest, to waste energies with such a being would have truly been a crime. The Knight snarled:

"Go away".

After this short statement, he naturally turned it his back once again and shifted to come back. But from that being, a long spear took form and darted to attack the apparently off-guard youth. He reduced it in shreds and rapidly clutched what seemed the creature's throat and squeezed it to death. The creature's big void enlarged like an ink smudge. He knew it was going to end like this, with a foolish opponent like that, and, not feeling anything while shattering that life, he felt nothing more than a cold killer. He didn't know it he was pleased or not.

In the last instants of its life, that thing let the knife escape its remaining hand.

In the very second the metal touched the soil, producing a deaf noise, something like stoppers fell from the cavalier's ears, and in a moment all the appeals, all the screams she had vainly entrusted to the wind burst out in his head, exploding.

He hurriedly let go of the creature and dashed faster than he could imagine to the oak. Now he heard them, the supplications, every single one of them: she truly was in despair, perhaps she was victim of an illusion too.

With a single stroke, he clean-cut all the oak's branches which hid her from him; the aged ranking pierced the night with a terrifying shout. The moonlight leaked through the orifice, the woman let out a sigh of relief at the mere sight of him. Then, jaded, she collapsed.

He took her and brought her to the horses, just some steps distant from the tree.

But everything said him it wasn't ended yet: the rustling foliage, the whispering breeze, everything reported him of unnamed enemies hidden in the night. As innumerable shadows encircled them, like hungry wolves, he prepared himself to face the foes.

Izayoi, intelligent enough to understand the everything-but-rosy situation, cringed away from the soon-to-be battlefield and pressed her vacillating frame against the oak's bark, her horse's reins barely grazed by her trembling fingers.

"Surely", the knight thought an instant before not thinking anything more, "I'm not alone".

"P-prince…"

Oh, my! What did she want now? Couldn't she comprehend the circumstances?

"What?"

She flinched and suddenly moved backwards, afraid.

"Your intention is to fight, isn't it?"

"I see no other way", was his peeved reply.

She distinctly felt a lump in her throat as the tree became less and less definite, while humid drops formed on her eyebrows. She lowered her eyes. "Sesshoumaru…is it possible that you do not know any other way to save yourself? Is it possible that the only thing which can guarantee you survival is, in your opinion, the battle? Is this why you seek strength, why you can't control your yearn for power?". She brought a hand to her forehead and sighed. "He must feel so forlorn", she realized, suddenly saddened not by his conduct's apparent cruelty, by the faults she blamed herself to have committed instead.

"Couldn't we simply…tuck ourselves away?"

To this, he repressed a very bad rebut. Even if she was actually proposing something too shameful to be even thought, she remained the Queen. She was his father's bride, in spite of her ignoble nature.

"I consider myself more honorable than that".

Honor? What honor? Was there something wrong in trying to fulfill a duty? How could they get what they ha begun the travel for, if they died the very first day their adventure had started? In those conditions he was really blathering something about, about…

She couldn't bear more. On the verge of tears, she screamed all that passed through her mind, careless. Blood pulsed in her temples.

"Why, Sesshoumaru? Always because of your pride, your pride! There would be nothing dishonorable in trying to escape, you have the right to live! Be selfish for a time, think to the good points! There's no need for you to waste time and energies in this action. Please, please listen to me, let's just get out of here unharmed while we can!"

"Be selfish for a time"? "You have the right to live"? Surely, she had gone crazy due to the terror.

In a not-so-well-hidden huff, as if she had offended him in the worst way, he replied nothing and simply continued to stare at the intricate vegetation. She fretted over his reaction, understanding too late she had used his first name more than a time without having the permission to do so. Yet, at the moment, she didn't care at all. She couldn't deny she felt guilty for how he was revealing to be grown up: when she had married the man she loved, the Prince was already in his teens and he showed already at their first meeting his…well, harshness toward her. She was so young then, so ingenuous; she had never really scrutinized deeply in his soul when she could have maybe been able to find something in him. And now, now that she wished so badly to know his reasons, she found out she wasn't able to envision not even a cause which would bring him to such a reckless attempt.

"This won't solve anything, and what if, if…Oh, you are smarter than me, you already know how many they are: this aura is suffocating me, a simple human: it means they're numberless. For this time, accept my advice: let's just worry about our safety! I'm saying I'm not going to witness our disgrace!"

Ok. One…Two…Three…

"Damaré, woman!"(2)

"Sesshoumaru!" – unshed drops were now blurring her vision: he was angry… – "I'm begging you! But don't you value your life?"

This hit him. He felt both insulted, for it was obvious that she feared he could have been defeated, and astonished, for that woman somehow managed to read what he confined in his brain's darkest recess. To value his life…it was something that, maybe, he had still to learn…He had to deal with too many things to stop a moment and think about what he truly…He had a mission, an order, he had no time to have doubts.

She burst into tears, grabbed the oak's bark and silently wept, eyes shut close.

"I…don't want to see battles. I don't want to see blood! Why have people to slaughter each other this brutally, why?"

She felt her own, warm tears streaming down her cheeks; she tasted a salty savor on her soft lips, but it flavored bitterer than citrus' pulp.

_"I'll be strong, my dear. I'll be strong…"_

She cried a little harder. "My beloved, am I so weak? I had promised, but…Oh, I'm so scared!...I…

I'm worse that a frightened child, aren't I? I can't even…keep a promise…", she tightened her eyes and bit her lower lip, "A promise made to you!"

_"I'll be strong, my dear. I'll be strong…"_

"Please don't be mad at me for this, I…", she tightened her fists, squeezing the reins in her finger, till her hand remained bloodless.

"He's right, you know? Your son is right, we human are frail, we're so fearful…Because now, all I see, all I can think about, is that…Is that I want to see you again! I want to be in your arms, to be held by you for the entire night. I want to see the countryside with you, to pursue the butterflies with you. I want to taste again your sweetness, which is only for me. I want, I…

…I'm afraid of dieing, my love. This is the truth. I'm afraid of not being able to see you…one more time…!"

_"Then Sesshoumaru will protect you"._

"What? What have you…?"

_"Then Sesshoumaru will protect you"._

She jumped. "You're right". Her visage lightened. "You've entrusted my person to him. Is your faith in him so unlimited?" The woman, slowly, opened her almond eyes; everything was still, yet: the boughs, the leaves, the grass… She observed the youth, whom back faced her, for a long, long time. She beheld his silver cascade, his pelt, his armor, his firm grip on his sword, ready to receive the attack. He reminded her so badly of the man she had left only that morning and whom she already missed.

"You've faith in him. And…I trust you, darling. If you trust him, then…I believe him, I've faith in him, I trust him. I'll be loyal to him and I'll try to be helpful. I can't say I'm not dreading what's going to happen here, it would be a lie. But I know…I know you long to see me again, maybe more than I can even imagine. And, so", she determined, "I will support him". She gripped both horses' reins, ready to respond to every single signal.

_"Izayoi?"_

_"Nanì?"_

_"Aishiteiru"._

…

"Prince…"

Branches sagged under the weight of invisible foes. He spotted the flashes of metallic objects, not sure to be so curious about their sources…

"Stop bickering, woman. It's time".

She didn't retort: he was right, she had not to interfere, not to disturb. For the first time, she thought about how hard it had to be for him to have the mission to protect her, the person he hated the most in the entire world. And she felt a warm smile gracing her countenance.

Red eyes sparkled in the darkness, too many to count.

He tightened the grasp on his sword's hilt. No doubts anymore, no anxiety, either. Calm, composedness. Narrowing his acute eyes, he made out the vague figures of unknown enemies.

"Now I will fight".

_End Chapter_

NOTES:

GETA wooden clogs

DAMARE (the accent is on the final "e") Be silent! (Imperative form of "damaru" to be silent)


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: according to my dictionary, means "not caring enough about things that are important" (so it's not that far from Sesshoumaru's apathy). Well, please forget this meaning , the right meaning in fact. In this fiction I've used and u will continue to use cavalier with the meaning of **knight** . This maybe sounds weird to you, but I'll explain: in Italian, my native language, "cavaliere" is the word for "knight", so I confused a little… But I have to say that on another dictionary – the Freelang dictionary in fact – "cavalier" was presented as an alternative to "knight" – or such – so…I hope you caught it anyway. However, even now that I've understood my mistake, I like the word very much, so please be patient and…Enjoy the reading. I know it is an absurd request, after all the meaning of a word cannot be changed; but I have to insist that you help me with this "little" error. Thank you in advance, I hope this won't decrease your pleasure in reading this fic.

One more thing: you've probably noticed I use the words knight, cavalier and prince both with the initials in capitals and italics; don't think I believe you are stupid just because I'm explaining, it's always better to be clear. So: I use the italics when I'm talking about his condition, his appearance, his status as a knight (among others: he surely isn't the only one!), etc.; I use the capitals when I'm talking about him in particular, or someone is calling out him – I mean specific Sesshoumaru – or when I'm referring to his own title, "Moon's Knight/Cavalier, Shining Castle's Prince, Lord Inutaisho's Son/Heir (going on), etc.", since are titles only his and nobody else's.

Next, a big thank to my first three reviewers. I wanted to say that for the meeting between the maiden and the demon you'll have to wait until chapter 18…

For those who asked who she is, obviously I can't tell you. However, **the two guesses are both right**, since they both are in the story and one of them is the Sacred Virgin.

**Crash of swords**

By Carlotta

_Chapter three: Our goal_

He felt their excited snickers as smelly liquid came out through their skin, while reddened eyes focused upon the two travelers, anticipating a palatable meal. And surely, considering the attractiveness of the woman he was with, they were planning to do something else too. They were on the warpath, but he believed they were savoring her anxiety, her fear, wearying them with an insupportable wait. He could sense it: she was sweating it out, desperately waiting for that torment to end; he could swear she would have preferred a hundredfold they were already battling.

When he saw their eyes glittering in the obscurity, like myriads of crimson lamp, he knew time had come. As he drew the weapon, in a thunderous holler flinging warriors hurled from everywhere, clamoring at them. The woman, on the verge of a heart attack, pitched into the oak's ponderous roots and covered her head with her hands, shaking violently. The horses whinnied stridently.

The cavalier sliced in half countless foes, without break. But, although he slimmed considerably their number, they didn't seem to stop neither the assault, nor their own fervor. He didn't even concede a quick glance to their faces, just continued to strike and strike, tossing carelessly away pieces of bloody meat, once releasing power from his blade, once gashing the unfortunate opponent with his venomous claws, once fluttering his whip gracefully and fiercely in the meantime.

The poor woman looked wan, pale, her eyes wider than ever: she had never beheld such ferocity and, as often happens when you're terribly scared by something, she just couldn't bring herself to dislodge her gaze from the object of her terror, of her extreme fear. Her heart pounded restlessly, agitatedly, like a bewitched drum. And while he tried to straighten things out, she abandoned herself to the idea that, in those conditions, safety was merely a pipe dream.

All that blood, that blood…Bleeding monsters, beheaded corpses still wandering, or trembling in the last breath; pieces of meat, of spattered flashes, scattered all over the ground; the earth imbued of that damned red substance! She pressed a free hand against her stomach as it contracted violently. A suffocated moan escaped her lips as she promptly brought the other hand to her mouth, her eyes filled with tears once more. Just one more glance to that havoc and she was surely going to gag.

"S-Sessh…"

He immediately turned to her. And an overconfident adversary thought he could take advance from the unexpected luck.

"How foolish of you, idiot! Giving me the ba..!"; since he had his torso pierced by a light green whip, pulled out of nowhere, he could not finish.

The knight neared the woman, slaughtering once in a while the remaining demons which still dared to attack. When his foot hit something sift and warm and he saw a blue fabric, he realized they were alone in that wood, with the back to the oak. He had to do something about her, she could have been at real risk if he didn't find a way to stop those waves of aggressors. "I will beat them, this isin no doubt; but it would be safer if…"

"Queen…"

"Ha-hai?"

"Take cover in the niche".

She slightly jumped in anguish: the hollow, the squirrel, the earthquake, the dust…_"I can't breathe!"_

Her eyes broadened in pure fright and her breath shortened, as the voice died in her throat.

"Now".

Unfortunately for her, his tone of finality didn't allow any other option; this started her off moving to accomplish. She jerkily crawled to the hole, pebbles and dry stems scraping her frail skin. She had made the purpose to be loyal and to collaborate, so…she had to follow his instructions, even if, like in this case, they caused her extreme pain.

When he saw she was at secure, he gathered every bad feeling he was able to find in himself at the moment, At the higher level of rage, he released a storm of rays and red fire's spears and, for an instant, the night became day. Too scared to be astounded, the woman remained mute, openmouthed, gaping in confusion and disbelief at the results of her step-son's prodigious action, glows of light still flickering in her dry pupils: she hadn't blinked at all.

All around her there was no longer a wild forest, but a vast clearing, and the only standing tree in that desolation was the kind Ancient Oak, which had offered her a shelter again.

"They've stopped hopping finally", he said, a hint of satisfaction scarcely perceptible.

She nodded in agreement, finally serene. He had done a massacre, but…it had been to protect her, and she could not forget this. He had torn into pieces a bad-intentioned mass in order to preserve her life. And she was effectively undamaged, in her physic, albeit her mind cried out the horror of such a battle. A wrongful, unjust, unequal, disproportionate wrestle: and he had won.

"Oh, darling", she reflected, "now I see…I see why you trusted him so".

"I fear you're wrong", a gravelly voice retorted him, uninvited.

He lifted his look in the direction the voice came from and snorted. From beneath a heap of corpses a bleeding hand emerged abruptly, flinging away the remains of lost companions. Its owner stood up some moments later, covered in blood and internal organs. Izayoi let out a cry of horror and disgust, as her stomach again threatened to ache.

"What do you want?", the cavalier simply asked, eyes narrowing.

The monster, who appeared to be an ogre, judging from his colossal stature, leathery skin, tremendous eyes and unsupportable fetid odor, cackled loudly and bellowed surly, cracking his knuckles, his tawny savage mane rustling in the chilly breeze:

"YOU SHOULD NOT EVEN ASK, YOU SASSY UPSTART BOY!"

Sesshoumaru's eyes widened, while his eyebrows joined in a frown which was the portrait of ferocity.

"You insolent, vulgar creature…", he whispered furiously, poison flowing in his veins and blood boiling.

Around him a red cloud began to form…

"This is what you deserve", he growled, sprinting to kill; "WASH YOUR MOUTH!"

And with this, a clawed hand struck the throat, the chest, the abdomen of the wretched ogre, tearing limbs apart. The monster belched raucously whilst life hastily ran away from his body, as if in a hurry to desert that dyeing casing. But he struggled to keep a residue of soul in his practically no-longer-existent body.

"You…", that thing, half-lifeless, found the strength to murmur, "Who the hell are you?".

He smirked enigmatically, in a both satisfied and annoyed way.

"I am…the Great Sesshoumaru", he answered, impassive.

That one smirked in his turn, then grunt in false disinterest. Then, finally, expressed his willing, in the most terrible of maledictions.

"Sesshoumaru-sama… I CURSE YOU! YOU AND YOUR FAMILY, YOU AND THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE, I CURSE YOU TILL THE END OF THE WORLD!"

Before the knight could put an end to its madness, the ogre exhaled his last breath. The cavalier cut the scalp off the dead enemy, in sign of victory.

Then he roused and gave the little mount of dust, all that lingered on of the foe, a pitiful glance.

"I love nobody", he stated.

The sunrise had come and gone, now the sun was at a quarter of its voyage in the sky. She hadn't eaten anything during all the morning and she didn't feel hungry at all yet, despite the fact that she hadn't seen food since the previous day. Now she was finally fully awaken: after that terrible assault, all the sleep she hadn't been able to get in the night had come, vengeful, claiming her; and she had fallen asleep on her mount. When she had woken up – because of unpleasing stones they were riding upon – some hours had gone by. Finally, she had some alone time to recollect the last events.

"It's undeniable: I'm finding it hart to relate to him", she admitted to herself.

An abrupt stop put an end to her reverie.

"What's occurring, Prince?"

Stillness responded her.

"Something is lying in wait for us", his instinct uttered, "since quite a long time". Here they were again, they had just passed through a haunted forest – though all the forest could be considered haunted, and not only those kind of places – and again they were going to face some sort of danger. If things were to continue like this, he wasn't sure he had enough patience to endure the nuisance.

"Look over there, Prince!", the woman suddenly exclaimed, rousing him from his analysis of the possible antagonist this time.

He was coerced to pay attention to the cause of her sudden interest when she outran him, maybe without noticing it, just to stop some moments later and descend from the horse.

"What happened to you? Are you hurt?"

Before he could think she was talking alone – like a fool – he saw, beyond the multiple layers of her kimono – which was a hard thing to do: why had the females to put on all those robes, he didn't understand – a keeling figure. Its smell told him what it was before he could totally make out its appearance: a human. Pretty young, probably a child. It could have at the most seven, eight years.

He heard a shy "No" from what sounded like a female: most likely some farmer's daughter, betting from her humble clothing.

"What's your name?", the woman asked lovely, trying to gain the child's trust.

"…R-reiryou, Lady", she whispered back.

"What a nice name", she said stroking the little girl's tousled hairs. "Do you know its meaning?"

The kid's countenance lightened at the mention of her name. "She has to like it very much! Look at how she becomes excited just because of a simple question!"

"Well, yes: my father is a poet, he gave me this name. It means beautiful stream".

"You know it really suits you!"

She truly meant that: the little girl resembles a torrent, overflowing energies and joyfulness, in spite of the fact that she was chatting with a stranger who had found her on a lane's curb. "Well, I guess is a peculiarity every child has"; she chortled softly.

"Oh, you're really nice, Lady. Could I ask your name?"

The elder woman beamed amiably.

"Oh, you're so cute, Reiryou-chan! Of course you can: I am Izayoi."

"Oh, Izayoi-sama", she said, gurgling with pleasure, "I know this name! It's very poetic, it means…"

"Shhhhhhhhhh", the raven-haired beauty gently silenced her, lightly pressing her index upon the girl's immaculate lips. "It's a secret", she added then, winking imperceptibly, so that even Sesshoumaru could not perceive it.

"Now will you tell me what happened?", she asked again.

The child looked confused. The woman craned her neck in order to manifest her concern about the scabs on her knees and shins and at the scratches on her arms.

"I'm not probing, but…you need a healer: your injuries aren't bad, but you could easily reopen them. Where do you live, is it near?"

The little girl nodded. Then, surprisingly, uttered:

"It's been a youkai, Izayoi-sama: it was very ugly, with a long tongue; it slithered, like a snake…and, it's poison…"; she burst out in tears, but resumed o describe. "I've witnessed…while that monster…attacked a priest we villagers had called to purify the demon and its clan. I've been taken aback and…I've run away, but…I slipped on wet earth and hurled from the crest of that hill"; she pointed at the precise spot she had fallen from.

"I see, honey, but now you've nothing to fe…"

"Silence. It's coming."

It had been the Prince to speak. "It's coming? What is it that is coming?". The woman slightly worried: he had talked, and talked to advise, to warn…He wanted silence, this meant he needed to be concentrated… "It's a youkai, isn't it? There's a youkai approaching…".

It was weird: she wasn't scared at all, maybe it was an effect of having seen that tremendous battle that night…and the way he had fought it, obviously. But now…now it was different…"There's a child here, to watch such a savage scene…"

But she couldn't continue to think…in fact it was as if smoke swirled all around her: she was tensed. Bur what caught her attention was the fact that…he was tensed too. "Is his perception so sensible…or are we in real danger?

…But, compared to what we went through this night…I don't think there could be something worse hidden around here…

Yes, there must definitely be something, but he is perfectly able to face it… He is, right?"

The most she observed him, the most her confidence faded away: his hand was trembling imperceptibly and she interpreted that revealed sign of tension with some sort of…inadequateness.

But she could not know…that he was morose, bad-tempered and silent…Because that thing, whatever it was – and he surely wouldn't have wasted energies to determine its nature: it didn't matter at all – was trying to cheat…

"Does it think it can elude my senses simply attempting to disguise itself?"

"Come out. I know you are there."

An edgy Izayoi widened her eyes in surprise: the knight…was "inviting" – or better threatening – his coward potential enemy to show itself. Involuntarily, she found herself thinking: "And which fool would do such a thing? To hide perfectly knowing to be discovered soon?" Was the unseen creature that stupid, or maybe that simple-minded? She had no time to answer.

Eventually, from a thicket a green flash pulled out and darted in the direction of the Cavalier.

"You are late", the knight whispered, unheard, flitting to the precise spot he perceived a peculiar smell coming. It wasn't intense, but it was unmistakably the smell of venom. An old remembrance crossed his mind.

…_"Why does it hurt so badly, Dad?", a pup asked to his magnificent father, curved upon him to examine a singular scar on his only son's juncture between the ankle and the calf. The great demon had not answered and just continued to stare, masking his worriment at the view of the deep sting…no, it wasn't a sting, it was… "A bite"._

_"Stay calm my son and explain me what happened."_

_The little Sesshoumaru nodded._

_"Hai. I was hopping here, when…I felt…a sharp pain…I can't explain well, it's been like…"; his big eyes sparkled in revelation: he had found a good example: "Like when Mom accidentally gave me a kiss, but with her fangs…"_

_The pup, too innocent at that time, hadn't recognized his father's slight blush at the unconscious mention of his woman's most pleasurable "attack": the butterfly kisses. No doubt his ardent lover was too much passionate with their child, too: she had a special way to communicate her affection, just like the hot blood which flowed in her body. But what would you ever expect from an Amazons' descendant?_

_However now the problem was another: a snake – the smell was too clear to be mistaken – had bitten his son… Well, this wouldn't have been a big deal, if it wasn't for the strange presentiment he had in his chest: a normal serpent couldn't poison a demon, a demon like him at least. But what he felt then shattered his optimism._

_"Oh, and there was a sound…a strange hiss…And the grass waved…", he added, index brought under the chin in thought._

_"I see"._

_"Dad…What happened to me?"_

_"…". The great demon bore a grave look._

_That snake…the pup could have been a little wary, was it that much to ask? He wouldn't have been in these conditions now._

"Are you a snake-demon", he asked, more in an stating tone in fact, to the now fully revealed creature.

It was a skinny, pale lime individual, with a face more similar to some sort of mask, sleek platinum hair, tied in a long ponytale high over his nape. His crimson eyes, with a black shard in their middle, were filled by undisguised maliciousness. He had thin, long lips and a narrow mouth, with exposed curved teeth, spilling venom's drops. Every single drop which feel to the ground melted part of the nude rock, made the grass wither away.

"Reuryou-chan…", the elder woman suggested to the petrified child – she had probably recognized the demon – "It's safer for you to return to the village now."

But she only stammered baffled words, eyes frozen: she could see it, the priest's blood…stained that monster's strange armor.

However it was all over in the blink of an eye: only then Izayoi realized with her weak human senses she was actually unable to i see /i . Sesshoumaru had sprinted and caught the enemy by surprise, avoiding the venom's splatters which came from every direction, had neared the adversary and grappled him. And the two defenseless human had only seen a white thunder and green splashes and, a moment later, there was a big, smoking hole in the path's hard earth.

The Knight was holding the loser's neck tightly whilst the pitiable snake vainly tried to kick the Prince's candid clothes. Two fingers were pressed against each poison's gland, so that the deplorable being could not even react. His mouth was widely open, as if gaping for air, yet his chest didn't move at all. His teeth looked completely useless, harmless.

"Prince", the woman began, forcedly calm, "please not in front of the child…"

He seemed to catch the implicit message and winked back as a signal. She didn't waste time and tugged the little girl, making sure she could stand without problems.

"You're safe, Reiryou-chan. Now return to your own home".

"Arigatou gozaimasu, Izayoi-sama!", she thanked, rejoining in the meeting with such a wonderful person and in the safety from that monster. "My house is right behind that hill –the same I fell from – beyond the precipice"

"The precipice?", the woman asked curiously.

"Hai", she nodded, "the precipice at the west side of the cliff…it's really deep, I've slung a stone under it a few times…and I've never heard the…"

A certain demon lightly growled with impatience. A little nervous, the Queen smiled at the child.

"Go back to the village now, Reiryou-chan."

"Sure, and take care of yourself! Goodbye beautiful Lady! Goodbye wonderful, strong Prince. Thank you for saving me!", the little girl yelled, cheered up, running toward home and waving her arm in farewell.

When she was only a distant spot, their attention fell on the fiend once more. The iron grip on the snake's throat loosened and he fell, heavily, to the ground. Listening to his heartbeat, he inspired hungrily and coughed several times, before being able to breathe normally.

The Queen thought it was inhuman to make his agony lasts for so long, but…he had attacked a child and had violently slaughtered so many lives…

"Now you will pay for what you've dared."

The silver-haired warrior's icy glare pierced the hapless creature.

"No…", the loser trembled, the voice hoarse, spitting saliva. He knew what those word's real meaning was: he had arrived to the end.

The handsome prince slightly grimaced in disgust.

"No! I…I was wrong! I should have never come against you, I… Please don't take my life…Not my life!"

He roused his head to meet a clement look. Only coldness gazed back at him. In despair, knowing to have no hope left, he curled up on the arid path, moaning in pain. Every moment of his life came back, as he stared, half-unconscious, at his entire, malign, vicious existence. His first victim had been a toddler, male or female he didn't keep in mind anymore…he still remembered how its heart beat in his hand, not believing to have been chopped up from its dead body. That morning, the baby had learned how to take some bashful steps; his mother had giggled at her child's first fall.

He had devoured its still beating heart and had smashed its corpse to smithereens, melting its bones with his poison.

…Maybe he really…deserved to die…?

Nonetheless…he was too attached to life to accept it could end this way, brutally. "I won't…die…like this…", his mind, clouted because of the turmoil, panted. He tried another attempt.

"I…I promise I will never hurt a human again, I…an animal, either…I'll eat vegetables, I…"

The knight grunted.

"I don't care. Die."

"NO!", a feminine voice shouted. "No, spare his life!", it repeated, heartbroken, sorrowful, and anxious too. "Don't you see? He's repented!"

The Queen. She couldn't stay still watching such a scene: that creature had committed many barbaric acts, but…but now he was scared, before death. Now he was perhaps able to understand his faults, now he could maybe recall the expression on his victims' face, that mix of plea, terror, resignation, while he murdered them.

The condemned lifted his gaze to look at his unexpected defender, the unmistakable flare of hope burning in his lucid eyes. The Prince narrowed his eyes.

"Snake-demons are liars."

With a solemn, calculatedly slow movement, he roused his right arm, the sword's shadow hanging threateningly on the disgraced creature's pale, flawless neck. The snake quivered more violently and didn't feel his head on it's proper place already. Tears began to stream down its face, as he lowered his gaze and exposed the juncture between his skull and shoulders, resigned to his incontrovertible fate.

"No!"

Screaming, the clement woman abruptly ran toward the knight and…tightly grabbed his arm, which gripped the sword, desperately trying to hold him back!

Before Sesshoumaru could even assume an irked expression, the fraud demon escaped in a green flesh, cackling like a screwy and shouting insults about his savior's ingenuousness and naïveté. A second later, nothing more.

The cavalier pushed aside the shocked woman, who clumsily fell and didn't try to stop or relent the drop either.

He had fooled them. Or rather her.

…

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! HELP! HELP!"

A shrill shout pierced the air and…it came from the precipice! No doubt about the cause… The knight sprinted, heading there, to hunt his prey. In less than a blink of an eye, he was out of sight.

"Someone, HELP!"

A cry, again. The woman stood up in worry: she had to do something! Someone was in danger! And what was worse…she identified that voice! "Oh, God", her heart screamed, beside itself with dismay, "I beg You: please let me be wrong!"

"Izayoi-sama, can you hear me? Oh, my! Whoever, HELP ME! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Oh, no! No, no, no!". Recent pictures appeared before her very eyes as the image of a waving-hands little girl with an ice-melting grin made its way in her thoughts…

_"Arigatou gozaimasu, Izayoi-sama!"_

_"Go back to the village now."_

_"Sure, and take care of yourself! Goodbye beautiful Lady! Goodbye wonderful, strong Prince. Thank you for saving me!"_

"Please rouse me from this nightmare! Someone… WAKE ME UP!"

"I beg you! Don't let this thing…"

Silence. Why was there silent all of a sudden? What had ensued?

"No… NO!"

The woman grabbed her black horse reins and with a leap mounted its saddle.

"Let's go, Kuro! Hurry, hurry up!" (1)

The paws became the only audible sound.

Those instants, albeit quickly running, seemed an infinite wait; the path looked at every step longer, the ride appeared at every pawing slower. She prodded the horse's abdomen with a light slap, to urge it on. "Please, please, my Goddess", she involuntarily found herself to beg, "don't allow her to die, not when she's still so young, when she…must still see so many, beautiful things. When she has to learn that life is worth living". This time, neither the certainty that Sesshoumaru had by long gotten there reassured her: he was everything but a children's keeper.

If she were wounded, or worse poisoned, he wouldn't have surely offered his help to the poor child. "He's there to combat, to beat his adversary", she reckoned. "This is his only target".

After what seemed eternity, she finally spotted a scene which made her skin gooseflesh (2). A white cloud, that had to be the knight; a green arrow, the snake demon. But…"Where is she?"

The Queen fell in trance; as the world around her obscured, the figures of a hungry creature slithering on the soil and a little being, vainly fleeing, abruptly haunted her mind. The pretender was hunting the poor child, who terrorized tried to escape, unfathomable terror devouring his innocent face.

As she felt again her body, she began to scrutinize every single spot of that place, until…

i An orange smug right on the edge of the cliff… /i

"Reiryou-chan!"

The child roused to meet the woman's beautiful almond eyes, the inimitable, refulgent, sudden delight only children can feel shining on her round visage, her hairs ruffled by an unexpected gust.

Then, it all happened so quickly that it would be almost impossible to describe it: the woman scuttled toward the child, her uncomfortable sandals hampering her; her sudden appearance there diverted the Prince's attention from it's foe, merely for a blink, but it was sufficient for the deceiver rival to escape his venomous claws. The snake-demon rushed to chase the child, who, terrified, ran further…

As the snake's fangs threatened to kill, the little Reiryou took another step, just as the monster stuck her back…

Blood squirted in the sky. The snake's nails slit the air.

Reiryou hurled in the precipice.

"!"

"SESSHOUMARU!"

Thought precedes action, action precedes word.

But Izayoi only screamed, her intellect not realizing yet the occurrence, her maternal instinct taking over her. And the Prince caught her intention.

A cerulean blue globe of energy formed around him in less than a breath and before she could understand a green flash was lashing the air. What she saw next was only the lifeless corpse of a stunned snake demon, supine on a boulder, eyes barred by the eternal night.

A moment later, a white cloud emerged from the crag and silver footwear grazed the rock. She caught an orange fabric and sighed in relief.

There she was, safe in his arms. But the Queen didn't even near the fainted child. She remained far, and mute.

Because she knew…that all had happened…was her fault.

"I've showed mercy to nothing but an impenitent monster. I've put an innocent's life at risk. Merely because of…of this damned goodness with whom I…mantle myself!".

In that moment, the little girl opened her eyes and then squinted them: the midday sun was too uncompassionate. Her lips formed a wondering "oh" as she beheld the handsome knight who held her. Then, her look fell on the standing woman, so incredibly beautiful; her poise was unaltered, but her concerned stare betrayed her true emotions. Nevertheless, she called her out.

"Izayoi-sama!", she whooped, beside herself with joy, for she was not only alive, but surrounded by kind people too: she was safe, finally.

She jumped from the demon's arms, forgetting the wound, and skipped toward the woman. But the pain was unbearable and she fell, halfway. The woman stepped closer and hugged the child. She wanted to cry: would have Reiryou hugged her like that is she knew the woman was the only cause of her dangerous attack. "Would you still love me so if you knew I've spared that impostor's life, if you knew I'm the only one who should be blamed?"

"Now it's better if I accompany you to the village, Reiryou-chan."

She only nodded in reply.

The Queen accompanied her home, beyond the hill. She saw grasslands and paddies, and young farmer girls dancing barefoot in the sun with their straw hats, and children playing in the rice-field's water and in the springs which irrigated the fields. The countrywomen looked after the cows in the pastures. "What a rich area", she thought following the instructions the little girl gave her to reach her village.

"Perfect, now take that path. Yes, exactly this. We're almost arrived, Izayoi-sama, thank you very much…"

"It's odd that nobody has attacked it yet".

"Ok, that's the village, thanks again! I believe I can walk now, Izayoi-sama!"

"With all the wars in this period, here seems such a peaceful oasis…it's almost hard to believe…"

"Izayoi-sama…I've said I believe I can walk now…on my own I mean…"

"It reminds me of my own village…it was so peaceful, too: it was so wonderful, so…colorful…"

"Izayoi-sama…Oh!". Her eyes sparkled in indescribable contentment as the sun over her home appeared brighter. "I'm home!"

She woke from her daydream and gave a quick glance around. Then asked where they could have found a healer; the child answered there was an old woman who had this sort of duty and so they headed toward the mentioned house. In that community everyone appeared immersed in a humdrum life, but in truth they showed total happiness to live modestly, simply working hard to have the earth's delicious fruit. They entered the shadowed room.

"Kaede-oba-san, please help me"

The aged woman was shocked at the beginning, but she seemed accustomed to this kind of injuries; so she winded the bandages around the child's arm and legs and applied some herbs' poultice to her deeper cut, the one on her back. Then she insisted on giving to the Queen some medicinal plants to keep for similar situations.

When she abandoned the village, she found Sesshoumaru a little out of it, sign that he had guarded her meanwhile. He made her a gesture to follow him; although she wondered where he had left the horses, she accomplished. She remained silent all the while, aware of what he wanted to tell her.

They reached a cliff and he stopped some mere inches from the edge. The rock was covered with soft grass, the wind blew furiously. The sun was near to the setting, about to be eaten by the unlimited waters.

She remained some steps behind him and awaited, in his shadows, his pelt rustling in the air and his silver yarns plaited by the breeze. She flawlessly knew what was going to happen. In fact, it came after a little wait.

"Don't interfere in a fight ever again".

Sure: she deserved the coming blame. Her mouth stayed locked. She felt abashed.

…But…she had to say something…

"I…I'm sorry. I've erred on the side of clemency, but…"

"You made a mistake".

A quick retort, his voice like steel: he had to be awfully angry, under that icy façade. She bit her lower lip.

"I know…", she whispered. Then, she raised her voice a little: "Still, I would have felt guilty if I had let you…"

"It would have been your fault if that human died", he interrupted her quite coarsely. Her eyes widened in shock at his tone; it felt as if she had just now fully comprehended the great damage she could have caused.

"…"

"Now go to sleep, tomorrow we will leave at dawn".

The coldness he was showing went beyond every fancy she could have ever imagined.

She lowered her gaze, blurred by unshed tears, and bit her lip again: he was right and she knew it, but…but she hadn't been able to stop herself. Now that child was slightly injured but…but it could have been worse! It could have ended really badly! And…and she would have been the only one responsible…

In addition to this, she had disobeyed to Sesshoumaru, too, and, even if unwillingly, had put him at risk. Well, he was perfectly capable of beating that nothing of a snake demon, but…she hadn't helped, on the contrary…

"I've broken my promise to be loyal to him, and I'm paying the consequences…" A hand roused to her chest, fist clenched.

"But I will remedy".

She clutched at his arm, gently, but firmly. That was, excluding a caress she had tried to give him when he was little and the occasional necessities, the very first time she touched him willingly. And, this time, he didn't scoff at her as he had done in his adolescence. He just remained motionless, or rather lingered motionless, since they stayed like that for a long, long while.

"I…", she started finally, "I want to fulfill this mission as well. This isn't your own goal, Prince. This is i _our_ /i goal. We will work together".

He unnoticeably narrowed his eyes and glanced, unseen, at her. She tightened the grip on his sleeve and dropped her eyes.

"Please don't tell me I'm useless, like I'm sure you think: I'll demonstrate…I'll try to be helpful, I'll knuckle down, not to be a burden in your eyes. I think…I think nobody can stand being alone his whole life; please let me keep you company, let me accompany you in this travel. I must do it, I must meet i _her_ /i ."

At the mention of the reason why they had been parted from their home, she lifted her gaze to observe the sky, of a vivid red which evoked blood, the blood she had seen during that first, intense day of travel.

"And so, please…", she raised her look and stared at his profile; he didn't react at all. "Please consider me a companion, and not someone to keep an eye on". She said the last words with much intensity.

"I don't need companions", was his instantaneous, cold reply.

Nevertheless she understood what he meant with that foreseeable answer.

"Maybe. Even so…I need".

He imperceptibly lowered his head, perhaps thoughtful; she perceived it.

"Do as you like".

She let go of him and went by his side, admiring the wonderful sunset, the burning sky, the fired sea; the waves, which infuriated broke on the uneven, rugged reef.

When it came nightfall, she fell asleep and dreamt of her native country, of her childhood's home. And now, in that house, there was a strong perfume of sandal and pine's resin, spread in every room. And she felt secure, safe; she felt at home.

i _End Chapter_ /i

NOTES:

KURO: "Black"; as you've probably understood, it's Izayoi's horse's name, since it's a black horse.

GOOSEFLASH: it's an Italian way to say you are so frightened that your skin becomes like the chicken's one; it's used even when you feel cold.


End file.
